Reunited once more
by WeasleyWizardWheezes123
Summary: It's been a year since the great battle. Fred is gone, and there is nothing that George and Amy can do to bring back Fred... or is there? When Fred returns from beyond the grave as a ghost, it's up to the trio to find a more permanent solition. Will they


Exactly a year on from the great battle Amy was sat, with her head in George's lap, absent minded, he was stroking her silky blonde hair. He spent this time thinking, no doubt about his identical twin brother who was killed exactly a year ago. He didn't cry, but she wished he would, it was far better then the silences. She sung quietly, a few tears running softly down her pale face. He had been her best friend too, it was like loosing a brother when he died. His face was still clear in her head as they lowered his body into the tomb. Anyone would have thought he was sleeping and he was dreaming a particularly good dream. His huge grin still clear on his chalk white, cold face.

"I miss him, George." she whispered hoarsely, sitting up and cuddling into his chest. He buried his face into her hair and croaked back in an unusually high voice.

"I miss him too." He sniffed, it was hard to see if he was crying, but Amy rubbed his back in what she hopped was a reassuring way. When they broke apart, he started to open and close his mouth as though he wanted to say something. She held his hands and pulled him up, he was taller then her by quite a bit, but this never seemed to bother them. She looked deeply into his watery dark brown eyes, in search for a sign that she could tell what he was about to say.

"What's wrong? What do you want?" She asked urgently.

"I want- I want t-to go and see him." He stuttered. And as he said it, the first tear trickled down his face. Her heart ached feeling useless, wanting to help him.

"Of course we can." She said, watching him while she waited for him to reply. He was breathing heavily in, and out, in an attempt to regain control. The tears kept running down his face, he was blinking furiously to try and stop them.

"Crying isn't a sign of weakness." Amy whispered. "It's a sign that you've been strong for too long." He nodded his head silently, still trying to stop his tears. He sat back down on the sofa pulling Amy down with him. She knelt down next to him he leant his head on her chest. She brushed her hand through his messy red hair. He had finally given up trying not to cry, he let the tears fall down his face.

The silence was not awkward, nor tense, it was a peaceful silence. When Amy thought that George had gained enough control to go out again, she kissed his forehead, he lifted it and she stood up, and walked to the door.

"Grab the coats please, George, we're leaving." She said. It wasn't harsh, but she didn't say it softly either. She ran into the back garden and picked some of the prettiest flowers and wrapped them up. George appeared and helped her put on her own coat. They locked up the house and apparated together to the grave yard. Hand in hand they walked quietly through the sunny yard. They reached his grave and Amy placed the flowers by his tidy gravestone.

"Why, good afternoon. I've been waiting all day for you." A head popped out of the earth, transparent and pale. Amy jumped back and screamed, but gasped as she recognised the face. Scruffy hair and freckles, it was the mirror image of George. Who was stood next to Amy, mouthing wordlessly. Fred floated up and came to a rest next to George, who moved away slightly.

"Fred?" George croaked.

"Yes brother dear?" Fred grinned as though, he hadn't just appeared as a ghostly form.

"What the hell happened?"

"Well…" Fred began. "See when I was killed, I didn't go straight on, you know, to heaven, or hell or whatever… but I didn't't turn into a ghost. Well not straight away, not sure why, but anyway, haven't the foggiest what happened just sort of- woke up a few weeks ago. I was waiting for you to come, see I heard some passing Wizards talking about a special spell that bring us back to life… well almost. It's really complicated apparently and once you have done the spell, I have to be fed a potion thing. Called Duyerish I think. A guy called Shaun Tollop."

George was staring at Fred still, as though not sure whether his eyes were telling him the truth or not. Amy stood next to him, tears flowing from her multi-coloured eyes.

"Will you help me then?" Fred asked, he tried to say it somewhat casually, but the emotion in his voice was strong.

"Of course we will." George spoke his voice was so quiet but they heard it clearly. The three friends were once again reunited.

"Why didn't you come and visit us instead of wait?" George pointed out.

"Because, Ghosts can only walk, float, glide or whatever we do, where our living selves once trod. And you, being the clever git you are bought a house, in Pudellow, which I have never been to." Fred grumbled, looking slightly fed up.

"Tollop… Tollop…" Amy muttered under her breath as though the name was at the back of her mind and muttering his name would help her remember. "I've got it!" She gasped.

"Meet us at the shop." Amy told Fred and grabbed George's hand ready for apparation.

"Why?" Fred asked curiously.

"Because we can live there again, so you can stay with us, it was somewhere where your living self once walked. The only reason George and I didn't stay was because it brought back too many memories."

She squeezed George's hand and then apparated back to Pudellow, where they packed up their things ready to go.

"What the hell was that all about?" George demanded.

"Tollop. Is the guy that I met in London 3 weeks ago." Amy grinned triumphantly. "He was the one that tripped and accidentally threw his new cauldron at me."

"Yeah and… you think he's going to give you some potion."

"Yes, because I helped him. Those pygmy puffs. He said he needed some fur from a rare breed. Turns out we had that rare breed. He owes us." She grinned.

Cheered up now by Fred's return Amy sat by her trunk happily, pointing her wand at random objects chanting, "_Accio brush. Accio coat. Accio…-_" Along with George who was levitating his objects into the trunk.

"Done!" George declared snapping down the lid of the trunk. "To the fire!" He cried helping Amy drag the huge trunk outside. They finally managed to heave it downstairs, panting a little, George stepped into the fire, before dropping the powder he called to Amy. "Once I've disappeared, drop the trunk in the fire with the Floo powder and yell the destination." He paused, then dropped his own powder and said in a clear loud voice "Ninety-three Diagon alley."

Amy pushed the trunk and with huge effort managed to shove it into the fire with the floo powder and gasp "Ninety-three Diagon alley." As clearly as she could, but she was breathing so heavily, she was not sure if she had got the words out quite right. She stepped into the fire, and repeated the location this time a little bit clearer. She fell spinning down the sooty chimney and landed with a thud in the corner of her shop her leg hit something hard.

"OW!" She yelled. "Thanks for moving the luggage George."

"Your welcome." He grinned "Whoa-That looks painful." He rushed to her side as she winced, both, inspecting her leg.

"Ow, ow, owww!" She moaned. "I'm getting up, it'll be oka- ow maybe not." She tried to put weight on it but was forced back to the ground.

"I think it's just broken." George mumbled "_Episkey._" He directed his wand at her leg. A sharp pain darted through it but the initial pain vanished along with it. She stood up with the help of George and went to sit on the dusty sofa. George sat down next to her and watched as Fred circled around the room.

"You guys weren't always like this, but it's starting to make me feel sick." Fred whined, watching them.

"Yeah, well a lot's changed since you left hasn't it." Amy snapped, glaring at him as if daring him to argue back. He'd seen that many times before and knew that it was just better to leave it.

"Looks like this place could do with some cleaning." Fred chuckled.

"Go on then." Amy found an old rag on the floor and threw it through his head. "GOAL!" She yelled.

"Very funny." Fred grumbled back. "Aww what a shame, I can't do the cleaning. I'm not a poltergeist."

"I knew that…"

"'Course you did."

"Shut up."

"Nah."

"I hate you."

"No you don't, you were crying over my dead body half an hour ago." Fred said triumphantly.

"Fred don't." George protested pulling Amy closer as tears started to fill up in her eyes again.

"Why… are you crying?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Fred." George warned.

"What? I just don't understand why she keeps crying."

"Because believe it or not half an hour ago we thought we would never see you again, you heartle-"

"Ouch." Fred winced.

"Oh… err yeah… sorry…" George stared at his feet shiftily. Amy managed a watery giggle.

Amy woke up to find that George had already gone downstairs to re-open the shop for the first time in a year. She got dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast. George was in the kitchen he turned at the sound of her footsteps and swooped down and kissed her on the cheek. George glared towards the middle of the table where a pale figure of Fred was mimicking throwing up.

Voices were heard outside and then the bell of the shop door went. Fred stopped in mid-vomit.

The pause was interrupted by Fred who was flailing his arms in excitement "CUSTOMERS!"

"Fred NO!" Amy yelled after him. He spun around with an evil grin on his face.

"And why not?" He asked.

"Because you'll scare the customers away."

"So I become a ghost and you won't let me haunt anything."

"That's right."

"Well just try and stop me." Fred turned and tried to give the impression that he was storming out of the room, but it doesn't give the same impression when your a ghost.

Amy ran after the ghost and as she got downstairs she stopped in surprise, seems ad though somebody had already acknowledged that the shop had opened.


End file.
